


Better Together

by smilexdarling



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers Family, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bisexuality, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Depression, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Oral Sex, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 01:19:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7869922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilexdarling/pseuds/smilexdarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Steve and Bucky coming together again in this century, figuring out how to heal, and finding the happiness and peace they deserve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Together

Steve sighed, pausing outside the door to his apartment, keys poised to unlock it. 

He and Sam had just gotten back from yet another trip to find Bucky, with no luck. 

It had been seven months since Steve had last seen him, since that fateful day on the helicarrier that Steve could still only remember bits and pieces of: a standoff looking at his best friend that wasn’t who he remembered, desperation to replace the microchips before so many innocent people died, searing pain, that look in Bucky’s eyes when Steve told him who he was, then nothing. Nothing until he woke up in a hospital, still in pain, and saw Sam to his right. 

Sam had told him that Bucky was in the wind, no trace of him since the fight, no leads. Sam had suggested, as gently as he could, that Steve just let Bucky go. That wasn’t an option. 

Steve hadn’t told anyone, mainly because he wasn’t one hundred percent sure and couldn’t actually prove it, but he knew that Bucky had to have been the one who pulled him from the water. No one else had been there. No one else would have known where to find Steve, nor would they have been able to pull him to safety before he drowned. No one, except for Bucky. The fact that Bucky saved him had to mean something. Steve couldn’t just let him go knowing that, despite being Bucky’s mission, something inside him made him rescue Steve. 

He hadn’t bothered bringing that up to Sam because he knew it would only make him sound crazier since, as far as anyone else knew, Bucky still didn’t know who he was and was operating solely as the Winder Soldier. But Steve had seen that look in his eye when he’d told Bucky the truth. He saw that flicker of recognition, followed by horror. Steve wished they had been able to meet and talk about it under different circumstances. He wished he could have had the chance to sit Bucky down and explain what happened, or what he was pretty sure had happened, to him. He wanted to help ease Bucky into the modern world and get him the help he needed to cope with everything he’d been through. He wished he could’ve given Bucky what Steve knew he so desperately needed, since Steve himself had woken up decades into the future, scared and overwhelmed. 

He hated the thought of Bucky being out there alone and struggling to make sense of everything without any help.

For months, he had searched tirelessly all across the globe for Bucky, with the help of Sam who really didn’t get enough credit for following a possibly certifiable person around just to make sure he didn’t get himself killed, so that he could find his long lost best friend. He suspected Sam had figured out that it was more than just a desire to find his best friend, though. Bucky was the best friend Steve had ever had, but there was more to it than that. 

Steve wanted nothing more than to know that Bucky was safe.

He turned the key and walked into his apartment. He dropped his wallet and keys on the little table in his entry way and toed off his shoes, too tired to bother putting them back in his closet yet. He was caked in dirt and grime from traveling and he needed a shower as soon as possible, so he padded his way toward his bedroom. 

It almost went completely unnoticed, his senses weren’t the sharpest thanks to his bone deep exhaustion, but out of the corner of his eye, he spotted it.

A piece of paper folded in half and propped up like a little tent on his tiny kitchen table sat there waiting for him. 

Tentatively, Steve walked toward the table and glanced around the room to check for anything else out of place that could indicate this was a trap of some kind. Finding nothing of suspect, he looked down at the paper and saw his name, just _‘Steve’_ , scrawled across the front. He picked it up and realized with a start that that handwriting looked eerily familiar. It was a little more uniform and precise than he’d remembered, but it was definitely familiar. 

He hurried to flip the paper open. It read: 

_‘I’m okay. You can stop looking._

_Please, Steve._

_I need time._

_-JBB/WS’_

Steve collapsed into one of his kitchen chairs and stared numbly at the note. 

There was no denying it was from Bucky, the handwriting alone was enough to convince Steve of that, but the tone of the note was all Bucky, too. Yeah, it was short and, again he was probably crazy, but even just from those three lines he could hear Bucky’s voice. 

With a start, Steve realized the note being left for him meant that Bucky had to have been in Steve’ apartment. He knew where Steve lived, not that it was that hard to figure out especially for the Winter Soldier, and he had been right there in Steve’s messy kitchen. And Steve had been gone, out of the country, looking for him when he’d been right there all along. 

A swirl of emotions hit Steve all at once and he noticed his hand was shaking, so he set the paper back on the table and took a few deep breaths.

First, he was angry at himself for missing Bucky. He felt stupid for not being able to track Bucky as well as Bucky could clearly track him, he was dizzy from tiredness at that point, and he was just plain sad. 

Bucky knew where Steve was, but he didn’t want to see him. He just left a note. Just a measly, stupid fucking note, telling Steve to stop looking for him. If he knew who Steve was, which he must have since he referenced Steve by name in the note, then he must also have known that Steve was the one person who would always be on Bucky’s side and who would want to help him. And yet, all he had done was leave a scrap of paper behind without any actual indication that he was okay and how on earth did he expect Steve to be convinced to stop looking for him from that? Steve had questions and he needed to see Bucky and—

Steve looked at the last line again. _‘I need time.’_

Steve took a shuddering breath. 

This wasn’t about him. This was about Bucky, who had been through more in his lifetime than anyone ever should have had to go through, and all he was asking for was time. Time for what, Steve wasn’t sure, but Bucky wanted time. As much as it hurt, as wrong as it felt, Steve resolved right then to stop looking. After all, Bucky had asked nicely. 

Steve chuckled wetly and wiped at his eyes. He could just hear Bucky now, _‘I asked nicely ya punk, now leave me be and quit mopin’ around.’_

He folded the note back up and went to shower. 

At least he knew that Bucky was alive; that would have to be enough until Bucky was ready to see him again.

* * *

Steve stepped into the elevator and flung his towel over his shoulder, then pressed the button to go to his floor. 

He’d woken up at the crack of dawn to work out, something he usually did, but it felt especially necessary on that day of all days. It was his birthday, which had been difficult for him ever since his mom died, but he’d stopped celebrating it altogether when he’d lost Bucky. It hadn’t felt like there was much to celebrate at that point. 

Then he’d woken up in an unrecognizable future, surrounded by other super-powered strangers who all knew a lot about him, including when his birthday was. It had taken a little while for the Avengers to warm up to each other, but after the Battle of New York, after they’d all moved into Stark’s tower, they couldn’t help but grow closer and become friends. And, according to Sam and Natasha, friends didn’t let friends ignore their birthday.

Therefore, Steve knew his friends had something planned for him for the day, and he wanted to get an early start. 

Some days were harder than others, but mornings were usually the hardest for some reason. He had been struggling to even get out of bed lately, so he hoped that an early dose of endorphins followed by a luxurious shower would lift his spirits enough for him to seem extra happy for the party. Sam and Nat always did their best to make him smile, and he wanted them to feel like they’d done a good job for his birthday since it was so important to them, even if it was somewhat forced on Steve’s part. 

He’d been instructed to steer clear of the common floor of the tower, and he knew better than to argue with Natasha when she was on a mission. He just hoped the decorations weren’t too outlandish. He’d never been one for massive celebrations.

His mom had always done her best to go all out for his birthday, but even then it had been a fairly simple affair. Steve wouldn’t have had it any other way, though. He didn’t need streamers or balloons that spelled out his name or anything really, except for the people he loved. 

Steve sighed. 

It wouldn’t be as bad as some of his birthdays, but he doubted he’d ever stop wishing that all of the people he loved could be there. 

He stepped out of the elevator once it reached his floor and walked down the hallway to his bathroom. He turned the shower on and disrobed, trying to remember the last time he’d genuinely enjoyed his birthday. While he lathered his hair in shampoo, a smile overtook his face when he remembered that it was the last birthday he had been able to share with Bucky in their old apartment. 

It was before either of them had gone off to war, before Captain America had even been a thought, and Bucky had surprised Steve with a brand new sketchbook and a small set of pencils. Steve chuckled to himself as he also remembered that Bucky had attempted to make Steve a cake with mild success. It had been a little bit burnt, and he’d put the frosting on before the cake had cooled off enough, so it was melted and gloopy in some places, but it had still made Steve’s eyes go misty. And it was the best damn vanilla cake Steve had ever tasted, covered in red, white, and blue frosting with had stars all over it and _‘Happy birthday, Punk’_ written on top. 

Steve wished he could relive that day, just one more time.

He finished up in the shower, got dressed, and decided to see what the plan was for the day. He sat on his couch to text Natasha and she responded quickly with a short message: _I’m coming up now._ Well, that didn’t exactly answer Steve’s question, but okay. 

The elevator ding alerted Steve to her arrival and he walked out into the hall to meet her. 

“Okay Rogers, here’s the deal. We know you don’t like fan fair, so all we’re doing is having a small get together on the common floor, just the team and a few others. There will be presents and I don’t want to hear any whining about it. But seriously, trust me when I say we had to talk Tony down from the party to end all parties, so what you’re getting is as small as it could’ve ever been. Be grateful, because I gave up the promise of a chocolate fountain for you and your weird, humble tendencies,” Natasha finished with a wink.

Steve smiled and filed that tidbit about the chocolate fountain away for when Nat’s birthday rolled around. 

“Thank you, Natasha. I promise to try and be the best behaved birthday boy…man? Boy-man?” Steve trailed off, confused, while Nat snorted and steered him toward his kitchen. 

She moved past Steve to immediately start rifling through his cupboards, “Hey, do you have—?”

“Cabinet next to the fridge.”

She opened the right one and grinned, satisfied to find her favorite Froot Loops there. She started assembling a bowl for herself while Steve went to settle in at his kitchen table, but when he turned, what he saw there stopped him in his tracks. 

Natasha started going through the plans for the party, but she stopped when she looked up and saw Steve’s face. 

“Steve? What’s wrong?”

Steve blinked slowly a couple of times, and each time he opened his eyes, there it still was. It was sitting innocently on his kitchen table, just like that note so long ago in his old apartment, left there without any explanation or hints as to who had left it. Still, Steve knew. There was only one person who could’ve left it.

Nat, having figured out that it was the red, white, and blue cake covered in stars, with the words _‘Happy Birthday, Punk’_ printed neatly on top, that held Steve’ attention, nudged him with her elbow.

He looked over at her, she raised an eyebrow questioningly, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Um. Knife.”

Natasha pulled out her switchblade and offered it to Steve, but he shook his head and went to grab a more appropriate one to cut the cake. 

He approached the cake like it was going to explode, but it just—there was no way. 

He took a deep breath and cut out a small piece of the cake. He raised the slice to sniff, and yep, it was definitely vanilla. 

_Bucky._

Steve felt his knees go out and luckily he managed to fall into a chair as stared at the cake in his hand until it turned blurry. His breath was coming shorter and shorter, and he barely registered Natasha’s gentle touch transferring the cake to a plate and wiping his hand clean with a damp towel. She pulled a chair for herself closer to Steve and sat, taking his hand back into hers. 

They sat there in silence for Steve didn’t know how long, but it was long enough for his tears to subside and his breathing to get back to a more normal rate. All the while, Natasha rubbed her thumb back and forth over his hand and hummed a soothing song that Steve didn’t recognize. 

Steve cleared his throat, embarrassed, and turned away to try and discreetly wipe away the tear tracks on his face. 

“Sorry.”

“What for?”

Steve turned a dubious expression on Natasha, “For, for that. Surely that must have been uncomfortable for you.”

“Don’t call me Shirley,” Natasha said flatly.

Steve huffed a laugh and hung his head for a second. 

Natasha may not have known how deeply his sadness ran, but she was usually pretty good at saying the right thing to get him out of a downward spiral. It wasn’t quite enough that time, though.

Steve felt weary as he looked back at the cake and wracked his brain to try and figure out what it could mean. 

Bucky had obviously figured out that he’d left his old apartment and was living in the tower, but how had he gotten in? The tower was significantly more secure than the place he’d been living in when Bucky left his note, but apparently it still wasn’t enough to keep Bucky out. Not that Steve was complaining. And the cake had to mean that Bucky remembered; he remembered things from before everything went wrong, when they lived together, and Steve was desperate to know what else Bucky remembered. Did this mean he coming back? Was the cake his way of saying that he’d finally had enough time and was ready to let Steve be a part of his life again? 

Natasha interrupted his thoughts, “I’d better get back to party prep, if you think you’ll be okay. I can send Bruce or Clint or somebody up if you don’t want to be alone.”

Steve shook his head no, grateful that she hadn’t asked any questions about his little meltdown.

God, he must’ve looked like such a freak, losing it like that over what probably looked like nothing to her. He kind of wished he could tell her the story behind the cake, but he knew he’d probably just lose it again and she’d already dealt with enough of his emotional instability for one day. Plus, she was really excited about the party, so he didn’t want to keep her from getting back to that.

He pulled himself together the best he could and put on what he hoped wasn’t a completely fake smile. 

“Nah, you go ahead. I’ll be fine. Thanks, Nat.”

“Alright. You’re still banned from the common floor until I say so, but I’ll have my phone with me. And you can always make some crow sounds to summon our dearest Samuel,” Natasha said with a smirk.

Steve chuckled, “I’ll be sure to tell him you said so.”

“I’m not afraid of bird boy.”

“You realize you’re dating a ‘bird boy’, right?”

“I’ll be sure to tell Clint you said so,” Natasha winked as she moonwalked backwards out of the kitchen. 

Steve laughed and got up to go find some way to preoccupy himself until the party, and to maybe keep his mind from veering toward old memories of blue eyes and brown hair and warm smiles.

* * *

Bucky didn’t show up again on Steve’s birthday. 

Apparently, the cake had just been—well, Steve didn’t know what the cake had been. He had mixed emotions about the whole thing, if he was honest. 

The party had been really nice; he’d eaten and danced a little and gotten some thoughtful gifts, but he’d still found himself having a hard time truly enjoying himself. He felt bad, considering how much time and effort Nat and Sam and the others had gone to to give him a special day. Unfortunately, nothing was able to make his smile reach his eyes. 

But back to the cake. On one hand, he was thrilled to know that Bucky had remembered not only Steve’s birthday, but some of their old times together as well, and he’d wanted to go to the trouble of making that dumb cake and delivering it right to Steve’s kitchen himself. But then, usually at night when Steve couldn’t sleep, he’d think about the cake and get well and truly pissed the fuck off. 

He couldn’t understand what kind of message Bucky was trying to send. If he had wanted to try to reach out and start rebuilding their relationship, then obviously he would’ve left contact information of some kind or come back and actually stayed to talk to Steve. He hadn’t done either of those things, though, and Steve was pissed that Bucky was playing with his emotions. He had no way of knowing where Bucky was mentally, but how could Bucky not know that making random pseudo-appearances and then leaving without a trace for months on end was just keeping Steve constantly on edge? 

Every night Steve laid awake, wishing he could sleep so that he could at least see Bucky in his dreams, or wishing that Bucky would magically appear next to him in bed, where he always used to be, where he was meant to be. 

Not getting his hopes up hurt. Getting his hopes up, only to go day after day without any more glimpses of Bucky, hurt. Basically, everything hurt all the time. It was exhausting. And yet, he couldn’t sleep.

Steve rolled over and looked at his alarm clock: 2:19 am. 

He sighed and heaved his comforter off of him. If he couldn’t sleep, he figured he might as well do something useful. 

Steve grabbed his sketchbook and padded out into his living room, flopping down onto the couch gracelessly. He flipped to a fresh page and drew mindlessly for a few minutes, until he came back to himself and realized he’d drawn probably the ugliest picture of Tony that ever existed. He knew he’d need to burn it, lest Tony find it and get upset. 

He yawned and, even though he hadn’t been drawing for very long and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually made time to draw, he put down his sketchbook and looked out over the city. 

It still looked so strange to him sometimes. It was so much brighter, louder, busier than he remembered it, and that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but, but. Even a trace of familiarity would’ve been like stumbling upon an ocean in a desert. 

He thought he’d done pretty well acclimating to the future. He knew how to use the new tech and he understood the internet, Nat even set up a twitter for him, but he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that he was a kid stuck at summer camp with no end date in sight. Not that he knew what summer camp felt like; he’d never been to summer camp, but the point was he felt out of place more often than not. Or maybe, out of time was the better way of putting it. Either way, he felt wrong. 

He didn’t know how much longer he could handle feeling that way. He wasn’t going to do anything drastic, he didn’t even want to, he wanted to keep going. Steve knew better things were around the corner, probably, he just wished they could get to him sooner than later. 

Yawning again, Steve pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and laid on his side. He did his best to cover himself with the blanket, even though it was definitely too small for that, and closed his eyes. He fell asleep making plans to buy a bigger blanket and wondering when things would finally start getting better.

* * *

Steve shuffled along slowly behind the rest of the Avengers, eyes closed, and hoping he wouldn’t run into anything. 

He was exhausted. 

They had just gotten back to the tower after a debriefing with Fury, and all he could focus on was putting one foot in front of the other until he was back on his floor and able to take what would be a spectacularly long, hot, much needed shower. The dirt and grime from fighting, mixed with the blood of various people and creatures, left him feeling pretty disgusting, to say the least. All he wanted was to get clean and collapse into bed. It had been an insanely long day.

Fortunately, the team had been in fine form, working together to efficiently complete their mission. But the day had started yesterday, and they hadn’t had a moment of down time since they’d been called to duty. They were all feeling it, if Clint’s periodic whines and groans and Tony’s uncharacteristic silence were any indication. Sam and Thor had long since passed the border into loopyville, as they leaned on each other and giggled about—who knew what. 

Steve would have kept his eyes closed until Jarvis told him it was time to get in the elevator, but he opened them when he heard a frantic clacking sound quickly getting closer to the group.

Forcing his eyes open, Steve saw that Pepper was speed walking toward them in heels, which explained the clacking, and she had a strange look on her face.

“Hello everyone. I’m sorry to keep you, I know you’re tired and you deserve a rest, but um. We have a guest.”

She was smiling, but Steve could tell there was something she wasn’t saying. Tony stepped out of the rest of his suit as it disassembled around him and furrowed his brows. 

“Were we expecting someone?”

“No, no I don’t think anyone was expecting him,” she addressed Tony, but after a strained second turned to Steve, looking resolved. “Steve, I think he’s here for you.”

“Me?” Steve asked.

“Now, I know you probably wanted to go get cleaned up, but he’s been waiting for a few hours already and I’m not sure I can hold him off much longer now that he knows you’re back in the building.” Pepper turned to address the rest of the team, who all sported varying looks of confusion and suspicion, “As for you, I know that there’s some history with a few of you and our guest, but I’d appreciate it if you’d treat him with kindness and respect. If you can’t do it for him, please do it for me. We’ve gotten to know each other a little bit while we waited for you to get back, and he’s probably not quite the man you think he is. At least, not anymore.” 

With that, she asked Jarvis to bring ‘the guest’ up to the top floor and they all waited until the elevator doors slid open. 

Steve felt the world stop. 

Bucky stepped out of the elevator, and Pepper was right, he most certainly did not look like the man Steve had encountered on the helicarrier more than a couple of years ago. 

Where that Bucky had been blank-faced and almost robotic, this Bucky had a tentative grin on his face as he moved slowly, but still just as smoothly as the Winter Soldier, into the room. He still had the long hair Steve remembered, only now it was actually a little bit longer and looked freshly washed. It looked really soft; Steve wanted to touch it. 

Probably the most obvious change of all was Bucky’s attire. Gone was the Winter Soldier’s gear, and in its place were a pair of those dark wash skinny jeans Clint was always trying to get Steve to wear, some combat boots that were definitely meant for fashionable purposes and not actual combat, and an emerald green sweater that made Bucky’s eyes glow. As he came closer Steve saw that there was a grey beanie poking out of one of Bucky’s back pockets and the whole image altogether was…a lot to process.

Once he got past the ‘Whoa, he’s hot, almost as hot as when he showed up in that alley before Stark’s Expo, wearing his uniform’ thoughts, Steve couldn’t get over how healthy and happy Bucky looked. It was a complete one-eighty from the last time he’d seen him. There was color in his cheeks, cheeks that looked a little fuller now, like he’d been eating well. There were still some dark circles under his eyes, but they weren’t nearly as prominent anymore. He looked calmer, like he didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was a damn good look for him. 

Bucky had made it to within a few feet of the group by the time Steve had processed the fact that Bucky was in fact standing right in front of him, seemingly aware of himself and who he was, for the first time in over seventy years. 

Steve sensed Sam standing close by on his right and he glanced over, seeing that Sam wasn’t even trying to hide his ‘I’m ready to kick your ass’ look that he was directing in full force Bucky’s way. Steve appreciated the sentiment, but he hoped it wouldn’t actually scare Bucky off. He looked back over at Bucky and saw that he still hadn’t taken his eyes off of Steve, his soft, fond eyes. 

“Hey, Stevie,” was all it took and suddenly Steve was horrified to feel his knees giving out and his face crumpling. 

A lot happened in the span of a few moments: Steve went from standing, to kneeling on the floor with his head in his hands, tears coming fast and thick. He couldn’t stop them. They were coming and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. 

Sam knelt down next to Steve and was asking him something in his calm therapist voice, but Steve couldn’t focus enough to understand what he was saying. He couldn’t focus because, amidst the sudden chaos and the worry coming from the rest of his team, Bucky was there. 

Bucky rushed forward the last few feet and crouched down in front of Steve to gently press his forehead to Steve’s, cupping the back of Steve’s head with his right hand. 

“Shh, hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, come here,” Bucky opened his arms and guided Steve forward until Steve was nestled into his warm chest with his face hidden in Bucky’s neck. 

He realized that he would definitely be embarrassed to be making such a scene in front of everyone later, but for now, all he could bring himself to care about was the fact that he was finally, _finally_ , in Bucky’s arms. And not because Bucky was trying to kill him. 

Between hiccuping sobs, Steve tried to get ahold of himself, but it just wasn’t happening. Bucky stroked his right hand through Steve’s hair slowly and Steve could feel Bucky’s chest vibrating as he spoke to the rest of the team.

“I’m gonna take him to his room.” Bucky said.

“I can show you where it is,” Pepper said. 

Steve heard a scoff that he knew belonged to Sam, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to just let you roam free around here. And over my dead body are you going anywhere alone with Steve right now. It didn’t end too well for him last time, if you remember.”

Bucky nodded, “I know none of you have any reason to trust me, especially you,” Steve was pretty sure Bucky addressed that last part to Sam, “but—“

“We’re not leaving Steve alone while he’s like this, especially not until you’ve been cleared as a non-threat. If you want to go to Steve’s floor, fine, but I’ll be coming with you,” Natasha said, her tone cold and unyielding.

There was no use in arguing. Clearly even Bucky could tell she meant business, so he simply agreed and slowly made to stand up. Steve clutched at his sweater and Bucky was quick to wrap his metal arm around Steve waist for support. 

Steve felt silly. He knew he must have looked childish and completely unlike the strong leader he normally was. He couldn’t believe he was letting his whole team see him like this, but he didn’t have it in him to put on a brave face right then. He was overwhelmed, and that was putting it lightly. Still exhausted from the mission, still covered in grime, he just wanted to be clean and have time to process the fact that Bucky was there, in the tower, not trying to kill anyone. 

He glanced back at the team, noting that Tony, Bruce, Clint, Thor, and Pepper were averting their eyes to try and give him some semblance of privacy. Sam, on the other hand, watched the three of them head toward the elevator with barely concealed worry in his eyes. 

Steve would make sure to text him as soon as he could to let Sam know he was alright so he wasn’t left worrying. He felt awful adding even more stress to Sam’s life. Sam really was one of Steve’s best friends, even if Steve had a hard time fully opening up to him about some things. He knew it was hard for Sam to watch him walk away with the one person Sam felt was a real threat to Steve’s wellbeing. He wasn’t sure he deserved Sam and Natasha’s friendship sometimes. They gave him so much, and what did he ever give in return? Putting himself at risk and being closed off, what a great friend. 

Now that they were upright and Steve’s breathing was a little calmer, although the tears were still streaming down his face, Bucky was keeping a little bit of space between them. Steve didn’t know if it was because Bucky wanted distance or if he felt like he had to because of the tension in the room combined with Natasha’s less than friendly glare that was trained on him, but either way Steve missed the warmth of him pressed close. 

They stepped into the elevator, Steve between Natasha and Bucky. When Natasha looked up to ask Jarvis to take them to Steve’s floor, Bucky slipped his hand up to rest warmly at the small of Steve’s back. Some tension drained out of Steve’s shoulders at the touch, and he didn’t quite manage contain the small sigh that escaped. 

If Steve happened to lean into Bucky’s space more and more throughout the ride, Natasha didn’t say anything, and for that Steve was grateful. He wasn’t in the right state of mind to explain anything yet, and he couldn’t seem to keep himself from giving in to what he wanted, which at that moment was more of his body touching Bucky’s body. He did his best not to get too carried away though, because he also didn’t know where he and Bucky stood. He had no idea how much Bucky remembered and he didn’t want to drive him away by being presumptuous or making him uncomfortable. 

Steve felt his face crumple again at the thought of Bucky leaving. 

Bucky swiped his thumb in a soothing gesture where he still had it resting on Steve’s back when he let out a pitiful whimper. God he was such a mess. He’d never be able to live the whole ordeal down. 

After an eternity, the elevator doors opened and the smell of home hit Steve like a ton of bricks. He stumbled forward into the hallway, making a beeline for the bathroom. 

“I—“ Steve broke off to clear his throat, “I’m uh, gonna go shower.” He looked up through his eyelashes hopefully at Bucky, “Will you—“

“I’ll wait out here for you. Holler if you need help figuring out the faucet or something,” Bucky grinned. 

Steve huffed out a surprised laugh. He hadn’t been expecting a joke, especially considering how tense everything still was, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t glad Bucky was in a joking mood. 

He turned to Natasha, “Hey, I appreciate the concern, Nat, but if you wanna go relax and get clean, too—“

“I’m staying.”

Steve nodded. 

He was secretly glad she wasn’t budging on that. Now that he was seemingly past the hysterical part of his meltdown, he was feeling even more weary than he thought possible, and having to face Bucky and all of their baggage alone felt like too much at the moment. 

“Okay, well please be nice and don’t kill him,” Steve said with a grin.

Natasha smirked, “No promises, Rogers.”

“Um, maybe don’t dawdle in there, yeah?” Bucky said. 

Steve laughed and continued walking toward the bathroom, “Just don’t be a jerk and you got nothing to worry about.”

He shut the door and turned on the shower. 

While he waited for the water to get to temperature, he braced his hands on the sink and looked up at himself in the mirror. His eyes were a little bloodshot, nothing a good night of sleep wouldn’t fix, assuming he’d be able to get one any time soon. His hair and face were all coated in dust and dirt, as were his clothes, and he could still see the tear tracks on his face from before, but something was different. He recognized hope shining in his eyes and, while he knew Bucky’s return wouldn’t suddenly make all of his problems go away, it did undoubtedly make his heart feel lighter.

He decided not to question it and just enjoy the moment of happiness, however fleeting if would end up being. 

The room was full of steam by the time he was done looking himself over, so he peeled himself out of his uniform and stepped into the blessedly hot water. 

Belatedly, he worried that maybe Natasha and Bucky had heard him moan at how good the water felt and would assume he was up to some salacious shower activities. Oh well, he thought, he was too old and tired to worry about being modest about that even if it wasn’t true. 

Steve tried to get his mind wrapped around the fact that the past hour had really happened, that Bucky really was sitting out in his living room with Natasha, while he scrubbed himself clean. He also tried to figure out what exactly he was supposed to say to Bucky. Their reunion hadn’t exactly gone smoothly, thanks to Steve and his theatrics, something he would have to remember to apologize to Bucky for later. He wondered how one went about picking up a long, long lost relationship after all he and Bucky had been through. He didn’t think it was necessary to have Jarvis check to see if there were any books on the topic, considering how— unique— their situation was. 

As naive as it sounded, he really just wished they could pick up where they would have left off if that horrific day on the train never happened. He wanted to go out into his living room, politely ask Natasha to leave, and then jump Bucky’s bones. Of course, that would probably not go over well for several reasons, but a man could dream. 

He finished showering off and got himself dry before stepping into a pair of sweatpants and throwing on the Black Lives Matter t-shirt he’d found online.

When he stepped into the living room, he hadn’t been expecting to see the scene that laid before him. 

“You have to keep pulling it tight, otherwise it’ll be messy and all over the place,” Bucky said to Natasha as he sat behind her on Steve’s couch, his hands full of her hair. 

Natasha was facing Steve, sitting with her legs criss-crossed, and seemed perfectly content to let Bucky do whatever it was he was doing to her hair.

“Close your mouth or flies will get in,” Natasha said.

Steve snapped his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he’d been gaping at them, but it wasn’t every day he saw Natasha show so much trust to someone she’d just called a threat not an hour earlier. 

“What’re you guys doing?” Steve asked as he sank down into the chair next to the couch.

“Bucky’s teaching me how to do a french braid. The deal is I won’t grill him with questions if he teaches me and I get to practice on him.”

Steve looked at Bucky, who was sporting what looked to Steve like a calm expression, so Steve figured he must’ve been okay with that whole arrangement. 

It was strange to think he couldn’t read Bucky as well as he remembered, but then, he supposed a lot had changed. It would take time, but Steve knew eventually he’d know whether that quirk in Bucky’s eyebrow meant he was amused or stressed out. At least, he hoped Bucky would give him the chance to find out. 

“Oh, cool.” Steve tried to hide his sudden yawn and failed.

“We can pick up the lesson another time. Cap’s tuckered out,” Natasha said, rising to her feet.

“No, no, you can stay. I’m fine, really,” Steve insisted.

“I’m actually kinda tired myself,” Bucky said. “Would it be okay for me to crash here for the night?”

“Stark has plenty of unused space here, so I’m sure we can find something for you. Jarvis, could you—“

Steve interrupted Natasha, “Wait. Bucky can stay in my extra bedroom.”

Natasha looked like she wanted to argue that point, and he didn’t blame her. He knew they still hadn’t cleared Bucky, and it went against all of their natures not to take something like that seriously, but Steve also knew that he would have no chance of sleeping knowing Bucky was in some unknown place for the night, separated from Steve. Mostly, and Steve had every intention of keeping this detail to himself, he just wanted to keep Bucky as close as possible at all times. 

Maybe he did have abandonment issues. 

Steve continued, “Jarvis can keep an eye on us and notify you guys if anything bad happens. Not that I think anything bad will happen,” Steve was quick to add, making sure Bucky heard him, “but that way no one will have to worry.”

Natasha stared Steve down for a few long seconds before relenting, “Fine. He’d be an idiot to try anything with a tower full of Avengers anyway. Clint, let’s go.”

Steve’s brow furrowed, Clint? Clint wasn’t with them—

The vent in the ceiling swung open and Clint hopped out. He landed a couple of inches from Steve’s glass coffee table and wobbled, narrowly avoiding overcorrecting and crashing into it. Once he was stable, he turned and gave Steve a shit-eating grin.

Steve huffed, unimpressed, “Clint, what the hell?”

Clint signed, “Chill, Cap. It’s all good.”

Steve rolled his eyes. That, like most things Clint said, didn’t make any sense, but whatever. 

He just wanted them to get out of there so he could be alone with Bucky, er—so he could go to bed. Because he was tired. Yes, that was it. 

Nat saluted both of them before turning and walking out, Clint following closely behind. 

And then it was just the two of them. Alone. Just a couple of guys, alone. In Steve’s living room. 

Steve bit his lip and stared at the coffee table. Bucky shifted on the couch, pulling one leg up underneath him so he could sit on it, and rubbed absentmindedly at the back of his neck.

“So…” Steve trailed off as Bucky’s head snapped up to look at him. “H-How’ve you been?”

Steve winced at his awkwardness. Bucky must’ve seen it because he laughed and his shoulders relaxed, his gaze softening.

“I’ve been pretty good. And I know this is weird, me just dropping in unannounced. I’m sorry for not calling ahead, or, something.”

Steve shook his head, “Nah, Buck, it’s okay. I mean, I’m always happy to see you. You don’t need to call. You’re always welcome here.”

“I just wasn’t really sure I was going to come today, you know, so I didn’t want to make plans and then not show up just in case I couldn’t. But then I woke up today, or I guess yesterday now, and it felt right, so I came.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s okay, really. I’m the one that should be sorry,” Steve said.

Bucky looked at him questioningly.

Steve averted his gaze and felt his cheeks heat up, “For earlier. With the waterworks and the,” Steve waved his hand around, “everything.”

Bucky huffed out a laugh, “You always did have a way with words.”

Steve laughed with him, “Jerk.”

“Punk,” Bucky said. 

Steve looked up and they locked eyes. Their smiles shifted into something smaller, more intimate. They stayed lost in each other’s eyes for Steve didn’t know how long, but it wasn’t long enough. All he knew was that in that moment, it felt like everything, the mess that had been their lives, melted away and all that was left was this. Just the two of them, enjoying each other and making each other laugh. Steve felt a ball of warmth light up inside his chest, then Bucky blinked, and it all fell away. 

“You uh, you mentioned an extra room?” Bucky asked.

Steve watched as Bucky fiddled with the hem of his sweater, avoiding Steve’s eyes, “Yeah. I’ll show you where it is. Come on.”

Steve hoped he’d successfully hidden the disappointment in his voice and on his face, but just in case, he stood quickly, assuming Bucky would follow him down the hall.

He schooled his expression into something that felt neutral as he opened the door to the guest room and let Bucky step in before him, “This is it. There’s a bathroom just through there,” Steve pointed at the archway across the room. “There’s basic toiletries already in the cabinets and I keep some of my extra clothes, like workout stuff and general loungewear, in the dresser there if you want to change. And if you need anything else, my room’s just down the hall. Or you can always ask Jarvis.”

“Jarvis?” Bucky asked from his spot perched on the corner of the bed.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” Jarvis’ voice rang throughout the room.

Bucky jumped and his head whipped up toward the ceiling, “Whoa. What was that?”

Steve smiled, “That’s Jarvis. He’s an AI and you can ask him for help if you need anything, too. Right, J?”

“Of course, Steve,” Jarvis replied.

“Hey, how come you’re Steve and I’m Sergeant Barnes?” Bucky pouted.

“You just gotta tell him what you want him to call you and he’ll do it.”

Bucky nodded, mollified, and leaned back on his hands to look around the room. 

Steve shifted on his feet, feeling awkward again with the silence. 

He hated that quiet moments between them weren’t what they used to be, that now they were stilted and made Steve feel unsure of himself. He was so incredibly glad to have Bucky back, but he couldn’t deny that it hurt to be faced already with how different things were. It made him that much more determined to do whatever it took to find that general ease they once had. 

“Well, I’m gonna turn in if you’re all set.”

Bucky began unlacing his boots, “Okay. Night, Stevie.” 

Steve’s breath caught. 

That was only the second time he’d heard Bucky say his name, Bucky’s nickname for him, since he’d arrived and it sounded just a sweet as it had the first time. 

He angled himself away before replying, “Night, Buck,” and shut the door.

He leaned against the door for a moment, swallowing around the lump in his throat, and let his mind wander back to a time when hearing that nickname in that tone was a staple of his everyday routine. Eventually, he realized Bucky could probably hear that he hadn’t left, so he pushed off and made his way to his room. 

That night, Steve slept, and had pleasant dreams.

* * *

Steve slowly crept toward consciousness. He felt heavy with sleep, so relaxed that he couldn’t imagine moving a single muscle, and he let himself float in that in-between stage of waking for a while before opening his eyes. 

The sun filtered brightly into the room, illuminating every nook and cranny. He noticed the laundry piles in the corners of the room that he still needed to clean up, and the running shoes scattered around that needed to be put away, but he didn’t let himself worry about that right then. Everything felt too good. That was the first peaceful nights sleep he’d had in far too long. 

He stretched and took in a deep, slow breath. 

“Jarvis, what time is it?”

“It is seven thirty-three a.m. The tenth of January.”

“Thanks. I should probably go wake Bucky up, see if he wants some breakfast.”

“Bucky has been awake since six fifteen and is currently watching television in the living room. He has not eaten anything yet, although I did let him know what was available to him in the kitchen,” Jarvis said.

Steve sat up, “Bucky’s awake? Shit, I should’ve set an alarm.”

“Please do not fret, he has not been bored. On the contrary, he seems to be thoroughly enjoying a marathon of the program _Bob’s Burgers_.”

“Oh, okay. Well, good,” Steve said as he hopped out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants before making his way out to the living room.

Just as Jarvis had said, Bucky was sitting on the couch, wrapped up in the new, bigger blanket Steve had bought, and was glued to the TV. Steve stood by the entryway of the room for a moment, just letting himself look. 

Bucky laughed at the show, Steve wasn’t paying attention to the joke, so he didn’t laugh along with him, but he did smile at the sight of a happy, laughing Bucky on his couch. He was still smiling when Bucky turned and caught him staring. 

Steve started, his cheeks heating up, and looked away. 

Before he could apologize for being creepy, Bucky said, “Hey,” and Steve looked back up at him.

Bucky wormed an arm free from the blanket and patted the cushion next to him, beckoning Steve over. Steve couldn’t deny himself the chance to sort of cuddle with Bucky, not when he looked so cozy and relaxed, so he relented and went to sit down. 

They sat in companionable silence for the rest of the episode. 

Once it was over, Steve asked, “Who’s your favorite?”

“Louise.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

Bucky shrugged and said with a sly grin, “I guess I’ve always had a soft spot for tiny, angry people who don’t know when to quit.”

Steve scoffed and gently shoved at Bucky’s shoulder.

“What about you? Who’s your favorite?” Bucky asked.

“Hmm, what’s the mortician’s name again?”

“Mort.”

“Oh, hah, that’s clever. Probably him.”

Bucky looked unimpressed, “No. Are you serious?”

“Or maybe Teddy.”

“Oh my god,” Bucky said.

“Hey! That was pretty good, you sounded just like Bob,” Steve smirked.

Bucky groaned and flopped back against the couch dramatically. 

Steve laughed and then they sat in silence again for a few more moments.

“Hey, Buck? Can I ask you something?”

Bucky turned so he was facing Steve more, settled into the corner of the couch, “Sure.”

Steve grabbed a corner of the blanket that was draped over his lap and fiddled with the fringe. He had a lot he wanted to ask Bucky, but he had no idea where to begin, or really how to put everything into words. Steve didn’t know how he was supposed to ask for something when he didn’t even know what he wanted to ask for. His mind was such a jumbled mess. He just wanted someone to come along and make sense of it all for him for once, so he could relax and feel better. That was what he wanted, to feel better. He just didn’t know what that would mean or what he needed in order to achieve that.

As he sat trying to formulate a coherent question, he felt Bucky’s hand cover one of his.

He looked up and saw Bucky’s face, which was difficult to read. He looked simultaneously sad, wistful, understanding, and none of it made sense.

“Stevie—“

Steve winced, “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“What do you mean? I’ve always called you that.”

“I know. That’s what I don’t get. This is all so strange, Buck. You’ve just come back, even though you’ve been out of Hyrda’s control a while now, and I don’t know who you are, not really. I don’t know what you remember, or how much, and I don’t know how to act around you. Do we pick up right where we left off? Because, if so, then my first order of business is giving you a massive apology and hoping you don’t hate me—“

“I could never hate you—“

“I let you fall, Bucky. We were on that train, and you needed me to pull you to safety, and I didn’t. I let you fall. And look what happened because of that!”

“Steve—“

“I let you fall, and Hydra got you, and they did—they did awful things to you that make me sick, Bucky. I lie awake most nights thinking of all the things they could’ve put you through and it makes me sick, but I know that no matter how terrible I feel about it, it’s nothing compared to the horror you went through and somehow managed to survive. And then, on the helicarrier, even though you were meant to see me as an enemy, someone to kill, you saved me. I know you did because no one else could have done it. You pulled me from the water and saved my life and I couldn’t do the same for you when you needed me to. You’re always saving me and I—I—Bucky,” Steve broke off with a choked sob.

Bucky pulled Steve in and wrapped his arms and the blanket around him, letting him cry into his chest, just like the day before. Man, Steve was really killing it. So far he was two for two with having Bucky back and crumbling into an inconsolable heap for him to comfort. He didn’t deserve any comfort, especially not from Bucky.

Bucky waited until Steve’s sobs calmed down into quieter hitching breaths before speaking.

He whispered into Steve’s ear while rubbing his hand up and down Steve’s back, “I don’t blame you.” Steve made to pull back and argue, but Bucky held him in place and continued, “I don’t blame you, Steve. I’m not mad at you, it wasn’t your fault, there was nothing more you could’ve done. I wanted to go on that mission, and it wasn’t just because I was following you blindly. I wanted to go because it mattered. Men were laying down their lives, and I had no right to do any less than them.”

Steve huffed as he remembered their conversation from the Stark Expo. Bucky tightened his arms around Steve.

“You remember?”

“Yeah, I remember. I remember lots of things, Stevie. Now hush up and let a guy finish talking, will ya? Like I was saying, it wasn’t your fault. Missions can go one of two ways, good or bad, and that time things went bad. It happens. We can’t keep holding onto the past like that because it’s over, there’s no changing it now. Besides, if things hadn’t played out the way they did, we wouldn’t be here, sittin’ pretty in this eyesore of a tower together in the twenty-first century where you can watch naughty videos by asking an AI to get them for you.”

Steve leaned back, “You asked Jarvis for porn?”

“No, but your face was totally worth making you think I did.”

Steve flicked Bucky’s ear and Bucky laughed. 

Steve suddenly realized that he was basically sprawled across Bucky’s chest and, while to part of him it felt as natural as breathing, another part of him realized he still definitely needed to know what all Bucky remembered before he got too comfortable.

“You said you remember lots of things,” Steve said. Bucky nodded. “What sort of things do you remember?”

Bucky readjusted them so that he was laying with Steve officially sprawled on top of him and laced his hands around the small of Steve’s back. 

He sighed and looked like he was trying to figure out where to begin. 

“I remember pretty much everything from before the train. After that, there’s patches of time that I haven’t gotten back and I don’t know if I will, or if I want to. I remember even less of my time as the Winter Soldier. Mostly what I have from that time is little blips of memories that don’t make sense individually, but can be plenty terrifying even without context.”

Steve chewed on his bottom lip, “How, I mean, when did—“

“How did I get my memories back?”

Steve nodded.

“I’ve been seeing a therapist since about a month after the helicarrier. She’s been…helpful, to say the least. Without her, I don’t think I would’ve made it as far as I have with regaining what I lost, both in terms of memory and in sense of self. I was really lost, Steve. I didn’t know who I was, or that I was even a person. I would wake up from dreams, good and bad, that consisted of memories that felt more like videos of someone else’s life and I knew I needed help. So I found my therapist and she told me it would probably take a while to get to the place I wanted to be, but that I deserved that time to focus on myself and that I deserved the opportunity to heal. That was why I left you that note,” Bucky trailed off.

“You needed time. You needed me to stop looking for you so you could heal,” Steve said, finally understanding what Bucky had meant.

“Yeah. I wanted to be around you, I could feel it with every part of my being, but I didn’t know why and that scared me, being so drawn to you.”

Steve nodded, “One quick thing, I gotta ask, what was the deal with the cake?”

Bucky blushed, “Well, I remembered who you were, and I knew it was your birthday. It didn’t feel right letting it pass by without doing anything, and I remembered that first one I’d made for you and how much you liked it, so I decided to make another one. I wasn’t sure if it would do more harm than good, leaving it for you, but it just felt like something I had to do.”

“It was real sweet of you, Buck, but I won’t lie, it did hurt knowing you’d been so close again and decided to leave without seeing me.”

Bucky frowned, looking away, “I’m sorry, Stevie. I just wanted to give myself some time alone to sort everything out before I let someone get too close. During those first few months, having to keep you and Sam off my trail while I tried to make sense of everything was making things harder than they already were. That’s why Sarah, my therapist, suggested I just ask you to give me space. Hence the note.”

“You’re therapist’s name is Sarah?” Steve asked.

Bucky turned a knowing smile on him, “Yeah. I’m supposed to call her Dr. Lovejoy, but I’m special, so I call her Sarah. It used to annoy her, but I’ve worn her down with my charm.” Bucky winked.

“Uh huh, I’m sure you’re her favorite client,” Steve joked.

“I’ve gotten Patient of the Month for three months in a row, so suck on that, Rogers.”

“You’re a menace.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” Bucky retorted.

“I’m only a menace to people who deserve it. Long as you’re a good person, you got nothing to worry about,” Steve sniffed.

“You’re such a little punk.”

“Least I’m not a jerk.”

Bucky rolled his eyes good-naturedly, but he didn’t try look away once they settled back on Steve’s and they got lost in each other’s eyes once more. They smiled dopily at each other until Steve finally worked up the courage to ask the question that had been weighing on his mind the most.

Not letting himself look away from Bucky’s eyes, Steve asked, “So you remember the thunderstorm?”

Bucky’s expression sobered at Steve’s tone. He didn’t break eye contact, though, so Steve could see the exact moment he registered what Steve was talking about. Steve was glad to see it didn’t take him very long to get it.

“Your mom had just passed. You wouldn’t accept my help willingly, so I had to force a lot of it on you, because even in grief you’re a stubborn ass. Couldn’t get you to come stay at my family’s place so you wouldn’t be alone, and one night it started storming. Because I’m amazing and the best friend you ever had, I knew you hated storms, so I went over to your place to see if you were okay and make you let me stay the night, or at least until the storm went through. 

“I walked in and you went from zero to spitting mad, yelling about how you weren’t a baby and you didn’t need anyone to watch after you, that you were a grown man and it didn’t matter that the only person left who loved you was gone. I got pretty fired up at that and couldn’t help myself, so I yelled back that I loved you and you about faced so fast, you almost ran smack into me. You puffed up and told me to quit kidding around and to get the hell out and I said no, so you shoved me. I shoved you back. Then we started having it out in the middle of your mother’s living room like we were twelve, until you started having trouble breathing, so we cut it out and sat on opposite ends of the room while we cooled down. 

“A loud clap of thunder made you jump about fifty feet and that kinda broke the tension, so you asked if I meant what I said. Since I was still sore about everything, I said yeah, but that didn’t mean I didn’t think you were the most annoying person in Brooklyn. You smiled and shuffled over to me, took my hand, and said, ‘I love you, too’, and the rest is history.”

Steve could feel his eyes welling up, but he tamped that down because he really wanted to kiss Bucky instead of cry all over him…again. Steve moved in slowly, so Bucky had plenty of time to stop him if he wanted, and pressed a fleeting kiss to Bucky’s lips.

Bucky inhaled sharply through his nose, and Steve pulled back so he could see how Bucky had felt about that. Before he could get too far, though, Bucky pulled him back in and resumed the kiss with what could only be called fervor. Bucky’s enthusiasm and the fact that his tongue was suddenly down Steve’s throat was all the answer he needed.

When they finally took a break to catch their breath, Bucky kept his eyes closed and whispered, “I missed you.”

Steve felt a lump form in his throat. He cupped Bucky’s face in his hands, his thumbs stroking Bucky’s cheeks tenderly. 

“Oh, Buck. You have no idea. Well, maybe you do, fuck. There aren’t words. There just aren’t words, Buck.”

Bucky opened his eyes and looked back at Steve with such vulnerability that it took Steve’s breath away. Steve leaned in and kissed the tip of Bucky’s nose, then his forehead, and just for posterity’s sake, each of his cheeks. By the end of it, Bucky was chuckling wetly, and it was the most beautiful sound Steve had ever heard. 

“So, does this mean you want to be with me again? Or, still? This is a confusing situation…” 

Bucky chuckled, “Yeah, you’re telling me. I think we can be together, if we both want, but Sarah and I have talked about it, and she thinks it’s important that we take it easy. We need to make sure we have realistic expectations, meaning we need to understand that our dynamic won’t necessarily be the same as it was. A lot has happened, and we aren’t the same guys we were before, but that’s okay. It doesn’t mean we can’t work it out.”

“Okay, yeah, that makes sense. So we just take it slow?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded, “I know it goes against our nature, but I think that’s the smart thing to do.” Bucky winked. “I only want to be with you, you don’t have to worry about that, but maybe we should hold off on defining everything. Sarah said that might put too much pressure on us, considering we have so much to work through together. And I still have a lot of work to do myself, so yeah.”

Steve thought that over. It made sense, even though not calling Bucky his boyfriend immediately felt weird, he knew it did make sense for their strange situation. There was also the fact that Steve hadn’t technically told anyone in this century that he was bi, so waiting to define things would maybe give him some time to do that.

“I’m okay with waiting, and um, I haven’t told anyone that I like guys. I just, haven’t really had a reason to. And you can say no to this, we obviously have a lot of talking still to do to figure out where we stand on certain things now, but would it be okay if I kissed you sometimes when we were alone?” Steve asked, knowing full well he wasn’t hiding the hope in his voice at all.

Bucky’s face lit up, “Yeah. That’d be okay, Stevie. We’ll figure everything out together. We’ve got time now.”

Hope and excitement were the only things Steve could register at that moment. He hadn’t felt so relieved, so light and carefree, in so long. He never wanted that perfect moment, just him and his guy, cuddled on the couch and looking at each other like total saps, to end.

Then the elevator dinged and Sam’s voice burst their bubble.

“Hey cap! Get your sorry ass outta bed. Lets go get some pancakes. And if you promise not to give me any shit about the whipped cream, you can even bring along old man number two.”

Steve scrambled off of Bucky and ran his fingers through his hair, settling on the opposite end of the couch. 

Sam rounded the corner and stopped abruptly. “Oh, good. You’re already up. Morning, sunshine.”

“Morning,” Steve managed to say without sounding suspicious. At least he hoped so.

Sam turned his gaze onto Bucky, “Morning to you, too, Barnes.”

“You can call me Bucky.”

“So Barnes, will you be joining us for breakfast?” Sam asked.

Steve sighed. He could already tell these two were going to give him many, many headaches.

“I don’t know, Steve, you planning on giving him a hard time about the whipped cream?” Bucky asked.

Steve looked at Sam with an exaggerated smile, “No. I’ll let it slide this time. Alright, meet back here in five minutes.”

Steve and Bucky each went to their rooms to change and then off they went to have breakfast with Sam. 

Life was completely surreal sometimes.

* * *

They went to a little diner Sam introduced Steve to, that had quickly become his and Steve’s favorite place for having what Steve called their Deep Conversations. He was curious to see what that morning’s topic would be about, assuming Sam still planned on talking about it with Bucky in tow.

Once they’d taken their seats in their usual booth, Steve sandwiched in between Sam and Bucky, they ordered and Sam wasted no time in folding his hands together on the table and turning to Steve. 

“So.”

Steve and Bucky both looked at Sam, Bucky probably more so because he wasn’t expecting such a serious tone, and Steve because he was waiting for the shoe to drop.

“So,” Steve prompted when Sam stayed silent.

“Look, I know you’ve been struggling. You never want to talk about it, and I respect that, but after yesterday I don’t think I can just sit back and ignore it.”

Steve furrowed his brows, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Steve,” Sam sighed, “You completely lost it when Barnes walked in yesterday.”

“I don’t know that I lost it—“

“You took one look at him and collapsed, crying, and wouldn’t respond to anything anyone said. You may not remember it, but I tried to talk you down and it looked like you couldn’t even hear me you were so out of it.”

Steve felt defensive, but he stopped himself from responding with a biting remark when he looked at Sam’s face and saw nothing but worry lines and genuine concern in his eyes.

“You don’t need to worry about it. I’m fine, really. I was just surprised to see Bucky is all, and look, I’m back to hearing and talking and full functioning now,” Steve said.

Bucky cleared his throat so that both Sam and Steve turned to look at him. He looked uncomfortable, like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure. 

“Buck? You okay?”

Bucky gave Steve a reassuring grin, “Yeah, I’m okay. I actually wanted to say, I know I’ve literally only been here for a couple of days, but I agree with Sam.”

Well. Steve had not been expecting that. Apparently Sam hadn’t either, if his look of hesitant intrigue was anything to go by.

Bucky continued, “I know a lot has changed, but it just surprised me to see your place so…unkempt. You used to be real diligent about that kind of stuff. Things weren’t put away, laundry was laying out on the floor in basically every room, you had some books scattered all over your living room, dirty dishes left in the sink. Even your sketchbooks, which you used to treat like they were made of gold, were tossed onto the coffee table and the floor. It just didn’t seem like you, not to mention, certain parts of our conversation kind of worried me.”

Steve asked, “Like what?”

“Like,” Bucky glanced at Sam, clearly unsure how much he should divulge with the general lack of privacy they had.

“It’s okay. You can say anything in front of Sam, I don’t mind,” Steve assured him.

Bucky nodded once, looking down at the table, “You clearly still have a lot of stuff from the past holding you back. Stuff from the war, stuff between us, and it’s okay to be affected by the shit you’ve been through. But Steve, you were borderline hysterical talking about it. It’s clearly still hurting you in a big way, and it doesn’t have to.”

Steve’s mouth was pressed into a thin line and he knew his shoulders were tense. He didn’t know how to respond to anything that was being said. 

He knew he wasn’t the happiest he’d ever been, but he didn’t think it was that bad. He was handling it, sort of, not really, but he was hoping that with time things would get easier and then he’d be fine someday. Maybe he’d been wrong about that.

“Steve?”

Steve turned his attention back to Sam.

“I’m not judging you here, man, I’m trying to get you to see what I see. To see what has me worried. You hardly ever sleep, and when you do, you told me you usually have bad dreams. You don’t draw or paint much, even though you’ve said you wanted to, but you couldn’t get yourself to do it. You are kinda messy, but I figured that was just you. If it’s not the norm for you, that could also be in indicator that you’re having a rough time. And, I know this’ll piss you off, so don’t bite my head off but, you’re reckless in the field.”

Steve inhaled, ready to rebut, but Sam held up his hand.

“Just listen, please. You jump out of airplanes with no parachute—“

“What?” Bucky asked, loudly enough to turn some heads.

“That was one time,” Steve turned to Bucky, “It was just one time.”

Bucky stared at him unblinking, clearly not assuaged.

“My point is, you don’t have much regard for your own wellbeing. Sure, you exercise and eat well, but other than that, you seem pretty apathetic about taking care of yourself. I’m sorry for not realizing sooner that things were so bad, but man, I don’t think we should keep ignoring it. I think there’s things you could do to feel better. You deserve to feel better,” Sam said, his tone pleading, making Steve’s heart clench.

He really didn’t think he deserved a friend like Sam, but he was so fucking happy he had him.

Steve sat there, thinking about all of the times he’s wanted to go and walk around the park to enjoy the nice weather or draw or join in with his team when they played a game or did some other group activity, but then didn’t. He was able to make himself do it sometimes, but he rarely enjoyed it like he felt he should have, and he didn’t know why he hadn’t realized that that wasn’t normal sooner.

He obviously used to enjoy things, spending time with Bucky or Peggy, improving his art and taking classes, listening to baseball, so he knew what having genuine fun used to feel like. Steve frowned, the realization hitting him that he hadn’t felt that way in such a long time. He wondered how he hadn’t noticed.

“It’s hard to realize something’s wrong when it’s your own life. Sometimes it takes an outside perspective to help you see how bad things have gotten,” Sam said.

Steve flushed, not having meant to say that last bit out loud. Their food arrived and Steve was grateful to have something to do with his hands.

After a few minutes of quiet chewing, Steve sighed, “Okay. I’m a mess. Now what?”

“Recognizing it is half the battle, and there’s a few things you could do. Therapy would probably be a good place to start. If you feel comfortable,” Sam suggested.

“It helped me,” Bucky added in a small voice.

He looked shy, like maybe he wasn’t comfortable being so candid about his personal struggles in front of Sam. Steve pressed his leg against Bucky’s with the hope that it would help him relax. Bucky shot him a quick, little smile.

“Therapy,” Steve nodded. “Sounds good.”

* * *

Therapy was decidedly not good. 

Steve had gone to an old colleague of Sam’s that he’d recommended, Meena. They’d had thirteen sessions as of that morning and Steve decided to walk back to the tower to see if he could walk off some of his sour mood.

“Meena the meanie,” Steve whispered to himself as he walked, grinning at his wit. It was short lived, though, because he remembered how their session had gone and he was back to scowling. 

It wasn’t anything personal. Meena was actually a really sweet lady. The problem was that she could always tell whenever Steve was bullshitting or trying to avoid a subject. And that was another thing, she was far too adept at knowing when Steve was bullshitting for someone who’d only known him for a few months. Who did she think she was?

She was a fabulous woman, Steve would guess she was in her sixties, and she always out dressed Steve even though he tended to wear freshly pressed button downs and khakis. She was also the most no-nonsense person Steve had encountered since his mother. Seriously, she was on basically the same level of badassery as Peggy. He both loved and hated it. It meant he couldn’t hide anything, which he knew was good, but it meant their sessions thus far had been hard and usually left him exhausted and sweaty. 

He always got sweaty when he got emotional, or more like when he tried with all of his might not to get emotional, and then failed epically, soaking through his outfit and crying anyway. He couldn’t understand how he could do a rigorous workout and barely break a sweat, but when faced with Meena and all of his issues, he was drenched instantly. 

Remembering his sweating issue made the dampness of his shirt that was sticking to the small of his back come back into focus and didn’t help his mood any. It had turned cold by that point and he just wanted to get home and shower, again, and go back to ignoring his problems. That had been so much easier.

Steve sighed. He knew he wouldn’t actually ignore his problems. No, he’d shower and then let himself have a few hours of relaxation time to decompress, but then he’d have to do the homework Meena had given him. His job was to journal about his feelings, find a meditation video to follow along to, and then do something completely indulgent to pamper himself.

He still struggled to see the point of the pampering sessions Meena was forcing upon him, but he trusted her judgement. And so far the bubble baths and massages and trips with Bucky to get ice cream hadn’t exactly sucked.

It was just hard. So many things in his life had been hard: battling with his body and its limitations before the serum, losing his mom, everything with the war, losing Bucky, and he knew it was a miracle that he’d managed to push through and that it meant he was a fighter. He kept going, even when things were terrible, but he had kind of hoped therapy would be a quick fix and not be yet another thing for him to struggle through. 

Of course, that had been naive of him to wish. Therapy wasn’t about avoiding your problems, it was about facing them head-on and finding ways to work through them. It would take time, and a lot of work on Steve’s part, but eventually he’d get to that better place he wanted to be. 

Bucky had been an enormous help. It seemed their intuitiveness about each other hadn’t completely worn away during their time apart. Bucky could still tell when Steve needed space, when he needed to vent, when he needed to get his mind off of things. Steve hoped he was as helpful to Bucky. Bucky still saw Sarah a few times a month, and he usually came back quiet and contemplative. It took him a few hours to come back out of his shell, and Steve was always there, more than happy to provide a comforting presence and pop tarts. 

Bucky had picked up his love of pop tarts from Thor when the team had all gotten to re-meet Bucky as himself, not as the Winter Soldier, and Steve was happy Bucky had made friends with everyone and found something he liked. He just wished they didn’t produce so many crumbs. 

But anyway, while therapy was kind of a giant pain in Steve’s ass, things with Bucky had been going really well.

They’d had some bumps, which was to be expected, according to both of their therapists. They had to figure out how they fit together in the modern world and as the new people they had become. It was weird how they were so familiar with each other, but at the same time had new quirks or traits that were so foreign. 

For one, Bucky absolutely loved all things sweet (hence the pop tarts), something that Steve had not been expecting. ‘Old Bucky’ used to be mostly indifferent to sweet things, so that was a fairly insignificant thing to get used to, but it was still strange. 

They were both a lot more physical, and not in the way they used to be, where they would mostly express their affection by wrestling and rough housing. Now their touches were more gentle and lingering. They’d sneak in a hug or casual thigh stroke any time no one was looking, and a few times when people were looking, much to Steve’s chagrin since he blushed so obviously every time. Despite Bucky’s ability to fluster Steve in front of their friends, he figured they needed all of those touches because they were essentially touch-starved. He was really glad, for both of them, that they had each other to help out with that. He hadn’t been comfortable asking Nat or Sam for cuddles, even though he knew they probably wouldn’t have minded, he just didn’t feel right about it. With Bucky, however, cuddles and kisses felt like their own form of therapy.

He had to reassure Meena that he and Bucky weren’t using sex as a coping mechanism, though. She’d been very concerned about that. They hadn’t even had sex yet. They were still firmly in the beginning stages of their new relationship, and they weren’t in any rush to try and deal with their pain using sex. 

Not that Steve hadn’t thought about sex with Bucky. Bucky was, after all, still his Bucky and he looked better to Steve than he ever had. His muscles were bigger, his hair always looked so silky, and Steve was particularly partial to when he’d tie it up in a bun. Yeah, not going further was sometimes a struggle, but Steve was still happy with their pace. 

He did start working out a little more with Natasha, though, just to help burn off any excess frustration he might’ve been harboring after seeing Bucky walk out of his room wearing only sweatpants and clearly no underwear underneath, or coming out of the bathroom glistening with water that dripped from his hair down his chest, or watching him laugh with the other Avengers during team activity nights. 

The fact that the team had taken Bucky under their wing, despite the history he had with some of them, melted Steve’s heart. He smiled thinking about how quickly Sam had warmed to Bucky, even though he still goaded him constantly by refusing to call him Bucky, instead calling him Barnes or James or, Steve’s personal favorite, Ducky. Steve had been worried at first that it meant Sam genuinely didn’t like Bucky, but then he’d caught Sam’s playful smile after messing with Bucky one day, and Steve realized it was his way of helping Bucky feel welcome. Bucky seemed to like it, too, even if he acted annoyed in front of Sam. 

It was the fact that the team seemed so happy to have Bucky as a part of their group that convinced Steve he was finally ready to tell them about himself and about his and Bucky’s relationship. He didn’t think any of them would react badly, not really, but old fears die hard and he was still nervous whenever he thought about actually sitting them down and saying the words out loud. He may or may not have been practicing saying it out loud with Meena.

Finally making it back to the tower, Steve was pleased to note that he did feel a little better after his walk. He asked Jarvis where Bucky was and headed to the gym where he said Bucky was working out with Clint and Sam.

Walking into the gym was yet another exercise in self control for Steve, as he was immediately greeted by the sight of Bucky’s butt in fitted workout shorts as he squatted with a barbell. 

He stood there staring, and probably would’ve continued to do so for the rest of time, but Clint noticed him and waved him over. 

Steve signed ‘Hello’ and waved back as he walked over. Bucky looked up and gave him a winning smile, which Steve returned, completely forgetting his bad mood from earlier. Bucky’s smile was one of his favorite things. Knowing that he could draw it out like that just by being in the room made his chest flutter. 

“You at a point where you could take a little break?” Steve asked Bucky.

“Hey man, you have him all the time, learn to share a little,” Sam said.

Steve ducked his head and chuckled, “Buck?”

“Yeah, let me just finish this set,” Bucky said before doing a few more squats. 

Steve stood off to the side, watching Bucky’s thighs bulge and his shorts tighten against his ass again, leaving nothing to the imagination. Okay, maybe Steve did want to move things along with them a little faster than he’d originally thought. Something he’d have to talk to Bucky about, but that would have to wait until later when they were actually alone.

Bucky dropped the barbell and followed Steve over to one of the benches where he plopped down with a deep sigh. 

“What’s on your mind?” Bucky asked.

Steve sat next to him, making sure to keep a casual, just-a-couple-of-friends amount of distance between them, despite the fact that he wanted to basically mount Bucky then and there since he was close enough to smell his sweat and feel the heat radiating off of him. 

Steve shook himself, he had a serious thing he wanted to talk about, he needed to get a hold of himself. 

“I think I want to come out to the team.”

Bucky’s only reaction was a nod, which Steve was pretty sure was his way of not drawing attention from Sam or Clint, but Steve wasn’t sure how to interpret it.

“What do you think about that?” Steve prompted.

“I think that’s great, Stevie. If you feel ready and you wanna do it because it’s what feels right for you, then I say go for it.”

Bucky turned to him and gave him a fond smile. 

Steve let out a breath and smiled back, “I think it’s time. I don’t want to have to keep watching what I say so much anymore. They’re my team, my family, and I think it’d help me feel more relaxed, y’know? I was also thinking that when I come out, maybe we could mention that we’re together at the same time? Get it all out there in one go.”

Bucky looked off into the distance and thought for a moment. 

That was another thing that was new about him, he took more time to mull things over and his face usually went blank, which at first had scared Steve. But they had talked about it and Steve understood now that it was just how Bucky needed to process things. 

Steve looked back over at Clint and Sam who were trying to do some acro-yoga moves, and were actually doing pretty well until they caught each other’s eye and collapsed into a laughing heap. Steve found himself smiling and, as had been happening more and more over the past few weeks, he realized he hadn’t had to plaster it on and fake it. He genuinely felt happy watching his friends be ridiculous. Of course, it was still early in his journey to feeling better, but he was glad to know he was already feeling the weight on his shoulders lighten up a bit.

Bucky finally spoke, “I’m okay with that, too. I-I’d like to be able to kiss my hot boyfriend whenever I want.” 

Steve could tell he was trying to make a joke out of it, but it fell flat when his voice wavered. 

He had to remind himself to breathe and not make a scene because he was pretty sure he heard correctly, but…

“Boyfriend?”

Bucky shrugged and gave him a grin, “Yeah, he’s this giant blond dork I’ve been in love with for way too long.”

Steve chuckled, he turned to see if Clint and Sam were preoccupied, and when he saw that they were, he snuck a quick kiss to Bucky’s cheek. 

“He sounds great, almost good as my boyfriend who somehow managed to get me to fall in love with him despite being a jerk,” Steve winked.

Steve hung around for a few minutes after that, once again gazing into Bucky’s eyes, but then he left him to get back to his workout and Steve couldn’t stop smiling all the way back to his floor. 

* * *

Normally Steve didn’t regret things. He was known for making some rash decisions, sure, but he almost never looked back on them and wished he’d done things differently. 

But at that exact moment, he was wondering if the decision to come out to the entire team all at once hadn’t been a bad idea after all. 

Sam, Natasha, Thor, Tony, Clint, and Bruce were all seated around the common living room staring in expectant silence at Steve where he sat next to Bucky on the couch. Steve felt a bead of sweat slowly trickle down his hairline to the back of his neck. 

He took a solidifying breath and clasped his hands together. He tried to remember the speech he’d practiced earlier in the mirror, as well as the words of encouragement from Meena and Bucky about how the team wouldn’t be upset or kick him out of the Avengers or anything awful like that. 

It was going to be okay. 

Okay. 

Steve looked up and decided focus on Thor’s forehead because looking into anyones eyes felt like too much while he said what he needed to say and, well, Thor had a nice forehead. 

“I’m bisexual and Bucky and I are in a relationship.”

That—wasn’t exactly the speech he’d painstakingly written over the course of a couple of weeks, but it summed it up pretty well, so Steve didn’t dwell.

Steve kept staring at Thor’s forehead until Bucky’s elbow nudged his ribs and he finally looked at the team’s faces.

Sam was smirking, but Steve could see he was also proud; Natasha looked a little bored, but definitely happy for him; and the rest of the team seemed to be experiencing varying degrees of delight (Thor and Clint) and enlightenment (Tony and Bruce). 

“That’s great man. Don’t have sex on my floor,” Sam said.

Steve blushed, which they all teased him about for a good few minutes. Then Tony asked a bunch of questions about how long they’d been together, which ended in Steve giving the Cliff Notes version of how they got together that made everyone coo at them. 

And then, that was it. 

No one asked Steve if he was sure that he was bi, or questioned the validity of his identity. No one said he should just pick a side, or made any comments about basically being gay since he was with Bucky. Nothing. It was amazing, and Steve would definitely cry a little about it, but later, when he could be alone. 

As it was, Clint gave him some obnoxious finger guns and an exaggerated wink that wasn’t really a wink since he closed both eyes at the same time, Thor wrapped both him and Bucky up in a hug that rendered them unable to breathe until he let go, and then everyone cleared out to go live their lives. 

Steve turned to Bucky, dazed. Bucky looked a little surprised at the general reaction as well, but he was smiling and Steve smiled back. 

All in all, it had gone off without a hitch, and Steve was happy he was still able to say he didn’t regret his decisions. 

* * *

That night, Steve was big-spooning Bucky on their couch while they watched a movie. Something about a lost fish. Steve was really enjoying it, especially the blue fish with the bad memory, but he had something a little bigger on his mind that was distracting him. Namely, he had Bucky’s butt on his mind, and it was indeed big. 

Steve huffed a laugh at himself, but Bucky must’ve felt it on the back of his neck because he turned around to see what was so funny.

“Nothing, I just thought of something funny,” Steve said.

“I like funny things,” Bucky countered.

Steve sighed, “You’re missing the movie.”

Bucky grabbed the remote and paused the movie, then turned back to lay facing Steve. He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“Okay, it’s not really funny. I just was thinking—I was thinking about—lately I’ve had some thoughts—“

Steve closed his eyes, he didn’t want to just come out and say he’d been thinking about Bucky’s butt, but he didn’t know how else to say he wanted to move things along with their sex life, or lack thereof.

“I like your butt,” Steve eventually settled on and hoped it didn’t make him sound as juvenile as he thought it did.

To Steve’s surprise, Bucky’s cheeks pinked up a bit. It was entirely too adorable, but he needed to make sure it was a good kind of blush and not an ‘I’m uncomfortable please don’t make me talk about this’ kind of blush.

“Sorry if that was too forward, I just—“

Bucky cut Steve off, shaking his head, “No. No, it’s good. I mean, I’m glad that you like my butt. I like yours, too.” Bucky huffed, “Fuck. We sound like we haven’t ever had sex before.”

They both laughed and Steve was glad that it broke the tension. 

“I know, it’s just we said we were gonna take things slow and I didn’t want to overstep or make you uncomfortable. Like we’ve established, we’re basically starting with a blank slate here and we can’t just assume things. But yeah, I really like your butt and, as much as I love kissing you, there’s more I’d like to do if you’re up for it,” Steve said.

Bucky smirked, “Oh yeah? What kind of stuff did you have in mind?”

And the blush was back. Steve could feel it everywhere, and he hated that this was so awkward but he didn’t think they ever used to explicitly discuss their sex life before so it probably would have been awkward then, too. 

But, he knew that talking would be a good habit to start, and it would really only help them. They were starting fresh and communicating was a massive part of that, and that extended to anything they might want to do in the bedroom. It was totally normal to talk to your boyfriend about sex. There was no need to be embarrassed. 

Right. 

Okay.

“Um,” Steve muttered. 

He hated how hard it was to just spit the words out because it wasn’t that he didn’t know what he wanted to do, he knew very well what he wanted with Bucky, but putting it into words felt impossible. He had a mental block or something, and the fact that Bucky was staring right at him while he floundered and got progressively more red in the face as the deafening silence hung in the air, was not helping one bit.

Finally, Bucky saved him, “I want to see your body.”

Steve blinked, “You do?”

Bucky nodded shyly, “Yeah. I know we had sex more than a few times after you found me and got me out of that Hyrda base, but I never felt like I got to fully appreciate how you look now and I-I’d like to.”

“I wanna see you, too.” Steve said, pleasantly surprised that the words were flowing more easily thanks to Bucky getting the ball rolling.

Bucky rolled off the couch and stood up, holding a hand out for Steve to take. He let Bucky pull him off the couch and lead him to Steve’s bedroom.

Steve stood there and watched while Bucky took the time to take the decorative pillows off of Steve’s bed and place them next to his nightstand before pulling back the sheets. He turned to face Steve and didn’t take his eyes off of Steve’s face while he slowly started removing his clothes.

First, he pulled his t-shirt off, revealing his toned chest that Steve had gotten to see from time to time but hadn’t been able to outright ogle like he was then. It honestly took his breath away how big and strong Bucky looked. And his skin looked so soft, even with the light brown hairs that covered his chest and traveled down his stomach. 

Steve’s breath picked up speed.

Then, Bucky bent over to slide his sweatpants down and off, leaving him completely naked when he stood back up. 

For some reason, Steve couldn’t bring himself to look down just yet, instead his eyes locked onto Bucky’s, looking for something. He didn’t know what he needed, but he was feeling a little untethered. 

Thankfully, Bucky came to his rescue once again and moved into his space, cupping Steve’s face and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Steve felt the tension in his body melt away and he let himself have a moment to just breathe Bucky in, his eyes closed, enjoying the anticipation of what was about to happen.

Steve started taking his shirt off and Bucky helped him as they both giggled when it got stuck around his head. Steve smiled and continued disrobing until he was completely naked, too before to joining Bucky where he’d settled on the bed.

The only sounds filling the room were their heavy, somewhat nervous breaths as they took turns exploring, touching. 

Bucky ran the back of his fingers feather-light down the side of Steve’s neck and over his shoulder, making Steve shiver.

Steve stroked Bucky’s hair away from his face and finally let himself look down at Bucky’s cock. 

As cliche and silly as it may have sounded, it was just as beautiful as Steve remembered, maybe even more. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but he was getting there and Steve didn’t think twice before wrapping his hand around the shaft, savoring the gasp Bucky let out at the contact.

“This okay?” Steve whispered.

Bucky nodded wordlessly, watching Steve through lidded eyes. Seeing him look so undone already filled Steve with pride and a sensual feeling he hadn’t experienced in such a long time. It gave him a boost of courage. He knew Bucky’s body. He could make him feel so good, and he planned to do just that.

Steve pushed Bucky onto his back and slid down his body while slowly stroking his cock. He couldn’t believe how familiar it all felt, memories of Bucky giving him that same blissful look in so many different times and settings came to mind, but Steve did his best to focus back in the moment. Some of this was familiar, but he knew a lot had changed and they were finally in a good place, together. He wanted their second-first-time to be amazing.

He leaned in and flicked his tongue against the sensitive head of Bucky’s cock. Bucky responded as he always had, with an appreciative groan, and Steve gave him a few more licks before taking the first few inches into his mouth and sucking. He lightly stroked the base of Bucky’s dick while he swirled his tongue around the head, focusing from time to time on his frenulum, and let his mind go quiet, only taking in the incredible sounds Bucky was making and nothing else. 

Before he knew it, Bucky’s thighs were tensing up and he reached down to cradle Steve’s head in his hand, their old warning that he was close. Steve leaned his head into Bucky’s hand and focused his efforts until Bucky tensed all over and came in Steve’s mouth. 

Steve swallowed as Bucky relaxed back onto the bed, out of breath, and Steve rested his head on Bucky’s thigh until he came back from his high. 

Bucky blinked his eyes open and propped himself up on his elbows, “My turn.” 

Steve only got a glimpse of the mischievous glint in his eye before he was pulled up the bed and rolled onto his back.

Bucky tucked his face into Steve’s neck as he started sucking on Steve’s earlobe, something Steve had forgotten could feel so mind-blowing until it made him realize just how hard he was and how much he needed Bucky to make him come.

Steve whined as Bucky trailed slow, sloppy kisses down his neck until he reached Steve’s nipples, which he then took his sweet time licking and sucking. Steve did his best to stay still, not wanting to dislodge Bucky, but it all felt too good and he couldn’t help but writhe around and moan.

God he’d missed this. He never felt the same level of closeness and comfort and ecstasy all at once with anyone else, only with his Bucky. It felt like a dream that they were together again, making each other feel good, without a care in the world. Steve figured they deserved this and decided to stop thinking and just enjoy. 

Finally, Bucky used his left hand to stroke Steve’s cock quickly. It was a shock of coolness at first, but with Bucky’s fast pace it warmed up in seconds, and all Steve could do was surrender to the waves of pleasure that were overtaking him.

In no time at all, Steve felt his orgasm build, and on a perfectly timed flick of Bucky’s tongue on his nipple, paired with his hand rubbing the head of Steve’s cock, Steve came with a string of whimpers that he didn’t have it in him to feel embarrassed about.

He floated, lavishing in the afterglow, until he felt Bucky wipe him up with a tissue and tuck them into Steve’s sheets.

“Lights out, J,” Bucky said in a quiet voice.

The lights flickered out, and Steve burrowed into Bucky’s side, drawing out a laugh from Bucky who wrapped Steve up in his arms before they both fell asleep.

* * *

A few weeks went by without incident, but then a news story about a teenager who was bullied at school for being gay caught Steve’s attention one morning as he watched the news while he ate breakfast. 

Within the hour, Steve had worked himself up into what Bucky always called one of his Righteous Rages and had contacted Pepper. 

“You sure you want to do this?” Bucky asked, despite knowing it was pointless to ask. 

Once Steve made his mind up about something, there was little to no chance of him changing it.

“Yes, Buck, this is important. Kids are being bullied and facing all kinds of shit from all angles over something they can’t change, and shouldn’t feel like they have to change, and it has to stop. I did what I could back in our day to help, but now I have a bigger voice, and what good is that if I don’t use it to help as many people as I can?”

Bucky pushed off of the kitchen wall he’d been leaning on, “Hey, I’m not disagreeing. I think it’s a great idea, I just want to make sure you’ve considered what it’ll mean for you.”

Steve furrowed his brow, appreciating the shoulder rub Bucky started giving him. 

“It’ll mean I don’t have to hide an important part of myself anymore, and it’ll mean we can go out in public without having to censor ourselves.” Bucky opened his mouth to continue, but Steve cut him off, “I know what you meant. I’ll face all kinds of media backlash because of this, and that’ll suck, but that’s the point. I’m not afraid of anyone physically hurting me, that’s not going to happen, but not everyone is me. Not everyone feels safe, and if me coming out publicly will help even a little bit, then I’m doing it. I can take hurtful words because I’ve got you, and Meena, and the team behind me and I know that there isn’t anything wrong with being bi, so I’m good. And I’ll just avoid the news for a while if it’ll make you feel better, but I’m doing this, Buck. I want to. I need to.”

Bucky smiled, “Okay. Well, I’m with you all the way, till the end of the line, pal.”

Steve leaned over the island to give Bucky a kiss. 

“Ahem.”

They broke apart and turned to see Pepper looking at the ceiling with a small smile, “Sorry to interrupt, but Steve, we’re ready for you.”

Steve gave Bucky one last peck on the cheek before following Pepper to one of the tower’s conference rooms. 

He had decided to film a video to put on the Avengers’ YouTube channel, that way he would have plenty of time to get his whole message out, and hopefully reach everyone that really needed to hear his words. 

Pepper helped him draft an outline of the points he wanted to make, they ran through it a few times, and then it was show time.

Tony came in to operate the camera, and it only took about half an hour for him to stop yelling “Cut!” every few seconds and trying to be his version of a stereotypical Hollywood director. Somehow, they got the video filmed and sent off to one of the PR people to edit and post to the channel. 

Then they just had to wait. 

They didn’t have to wait very long, though. 

Tweets, snaps, response videos, Instagram videos, and emails all came pouring in about a minute after the video went live. 

Steve couldn’t believe it. 

Steve, Pepper, Tony, and Bucky gathered in the common living room to filter through all of the messages, and the PR team helped field any questions from news stations, newspapers, and magazines that wanted the scoop on Steve Rogers’ coming out.

Clint, Sam, Natasha, and Bruce all filtered in throughout the afternoon to congratulate Steve and offer any help while they grabbed snacks after working out or working in the lab. 

Steve was relieved to see that most of the response was overwhelmingly positive. So many people thanked him and shared their own stories and it warmed Steve’s heart to know that something so simple could have such a positive impact on so many peoples’ day. 

Of course, there were negative messages as well, but Jarvis did a good job of filtering those out for Pepper and the PR team to deal with. 

After reading a particularly heart-wrenching story from a trans, ace girl about how Steve had inspired her to come out to her best friend that afternoon and it ended up going well, Steve looked up with tears in his eyes and found Bucky watching him. 

They couldn’t look away from each other, both smiling hard, because a day like that day was something they never in a million years could’ve dreamed of. Being able to come out and not fear jail time, having people from all over the world relate to them and share their stories, having a group of people surrounding them and not once wavering in their support of both of them for loving each other, it was more than they ever could have asked for. 

After a couple of interviews were scheduled for the next week, and Steve’s video was officially crowned the Avengers’ most viewed video, everyone went their separate ways, and Steve and Bucky spent the night reveling in the fact that they were out, they were safe, and they had each other. 

* * *

Steve waited outside the donut shop for Bucky. 

It was a beautiful spring day, with just a slight chill in the air, and they decided to spend the morning moseying around Central Park. 

Steve was busy people watching when a particular couple caught his eye. They were an elderly couple, slowly making their way down the sidewalk toward Steve, holding hands. What Steve noticed that made him smile was that they only had eyes for each other, grinning from ear to ear as they walked, and Steve wished he had his sketchbook. 

As they got closer to Steve, they looked up and noticed him, both of them stopping dead in their tracks. 

“John, I’m not dead, am I?”

“If you are, then I must be, too.”

“You’re seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Captain America out of uniform and not looking like he’s aged a day since we saw him in that USO show? Yep.”

“Okay, then,” The man on the left reached his hand out for Steve to shake, “I’m Charles Weaver. Pleasure to meet you. This is my husband, John, we’re big fans of yours.”

Steve shook both of their hands and smiled, “Well thank you. I’m Steve, it’s nice to meet you. Did you say you saw me in a USO show?”

“Yup, I’d never forget a jaw like that,” Charles said. 

Steve flushed. 

John elbowed Charles, “Charlie, cool it will ya? You’re embarrassing him.” John winked at Steve.

“I’m not doing anything, just pointing out the obvious. It is a nice jaw. Almost as nice as his behind, if memory serves.”

Both men laughed while Steve stood their dumbstruck. He was being flirted with. By men who served when he did and saw him in a USO show making a fool of himself. 

Bucky came out of the shop with a bag of donuts just then and stopped short when he saw that Steve had apparently made some friends. 

“Gentlemen,” he tipped his head at both of them while Steve introduced them.

“This is Charles and his husband John, they were just saying they enjoyed my USO show back in the day,” Steve said.

Bucky’s face lit up, “Oh yeah? I never got to see it, but I heard good things.”

John nodded sagely, “It sure was somethin’, especially that uniform.”

“Mhm, that uniform did you all kinds of favors,” Charles chimed in.

Bucky looked at Steve with wide eyes, he was clearly delighted and enjoying every moment of Steve’s embarrassment.

“He still has it, y’know. Haven’t been able to convince him to put in on for me yet, but I’m workin’ on it,” Bucky said.

“You two together?” Charles asked.

Steve and Bucky nodded, then jumped when Charles let out a sharp sigh, “Well there go my chances, Johnny. Can’t compete with old blue eyes here, even if his hair is questionable.”

Steve stifled his laugh at Bucky’s affronted look.

“Guess you’ll just have to settle for me, then,” John responded. Charles looked at him adoringly and kissed the back of John’s hand. 

“Guess so.”

“It was an honor to meet you fellas. Have a nice day,” John said as he and Charles went on their way, hands still clasped tightly together.

Bucky and Steve watched them go, then turned to each other and laughed. Bucky slung his arm across Steve’s shoulders and they walked to the park.

“You said they were married?” Bucky asked.

“Yep, isn’t that great? Two men can get married now.”

“Yeah, that’s amazing. They were a couple of characters, wonder how long they’ve been together.”

“Probably about as long as us,” Steve said before he bit into a glazed donut.

They found a bench perfectly shaded under a tree and sat down to eat.

They sat, enjoying the sounds of the few birds that had come back north already. Steve got up to throw away their donut bag and when he got back to the bench Bucky was looking at him with a fond expression.

“What?” Steve asked with a grin.

“Just lookin’ at ya,” Bucky patted the bench so Steve would sit.

“Enjoying this incredible jawline? I’ve been told it’s quite something,” Steve joked.

“Everything about you is incredible,” Bucky said.

Steve blinked at his serious tone, “Buck?”

“You remember that note I left you? When I said I needed time?”

Steve nodded, unsure of where he was going with this, “Yeah.”

Bucky ducked his head and looked out over the park for a moment, “I don’t know if I ever thanked you for respecting my wishes, but just in case, thank you. I needed that time to find myself, and I finally feel like I have. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. Not just happier than I can ever remember, because I remember most of what I lost now, but I don’t think I’ve ever been this genuinely happy before. And a lot of that is thanks to you, Stevie.”

Steve smiled, but didn’t say anything as he could tell Bucky wasn’t done yet.

“I know I did a lot of work to get here, I’m not discounting that, but having you back in my life has made things brighter. You are my home, and I never want to be without you again, Steve.” Bucky’s eyes shined as he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a little piece of paper. “So I wrote you an updated note. I have something to ask of you again, but this time, it’s a little different.”

Bucky handed Steve the folded note and Steve took it, wondering what Bucky needed that he couldn’t ask for out loud and that would make him so emotional.

Steve opened the note and read:

_‘I love you more than anything._

_I don’t want to spend another second without you._

_Make me the happiest jerk that ever lived and marry me?_

_Your best guy,_

_Bucky’_

Steve couldn’t look away from the note, even as his eyes welled up so he couldn’t make the words out anymore. He stared and tried to figure out what to say. It was like his brain went offline and couldn’t register what was happening.

Finally, he blinked the tears out of his eyes and looked at Bucky, his Bucky, who was sitting there trying to look suave and collected like he always did, but was clearly about to jump out of his skin with nerves; his Bucky, who had been through so much and had overcome more than anyone ever should have had to; his Bucky, who loved him and made him feel like no one else ever could.

Steve licked his suddenly dry lips and said, “Of course I’ll marry you, you dork.”

Bucky let out a wet laugh and said, “Well, good. Punk.”

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s shoulders as they tried to kiss through their laughter and tears. It was a mess, but Steve had never felt more alive or warm or hopeful than he did in that moment.

He finally had all he needed: friends, a job that allowed him to help people, and a beautiful day in Central Park with the love of his life. 

Steve held onto Bucky tightly.

Life really was better when they were together.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at [smilexdarling](http://www.smilexdarling.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Also, please check out the amazing accompanying artwork by:
> 
> [itsoscarclark](http://itsoscarclark.tumblr.com/post/149619436039/hey-stevie-was-all-it-took-and-suddenly-steve)
> 
> and
> 
> [scheissedraws](http://scheissedraws.tumblr.com/post/149683621686/art-for-smilexdarling-stucky-big-bang-fic-dont)


End file.
